Clad in vicious black armor with thick metallic overlapping plates—their crudely jagged edges absorbing the beautiful day's light—Northern moved like a fearsome wind of darkness.
The hammer added a tremendous note of grotesque strength to his form, lending him a twisted, dark gracefulness that seemed almost blasphemous in its perfection.
He spared no one glances, nor did he waste precious moments on the monsters he slayed—they were merely obstacles, unworthy of his full attention.
He materialized abruptly before a monster, his hammer taking a terrifying upward swing. The weapon crushed the beast's jaw with a sickening crunch, sending purple viscous liquid arcing through the air like unholy rain.
The hammer was already carving another cruel arc, descending with merciless precision to pound the monster's head into the ground. Webbed cracks spread instantaneously across the concrete, fracturing without warning beneath the devastating impact.
